Missing You
- 03
- 15
- 10
Don’t be fooled. I write these words on Sunday night. At 8:18pm. The girls are tucked in bed. The cats have been fed. The house is impeccably clean. And impossibly quiet. And I am here. In my dark study. Staring at my bright screen. Violating my no-blogging-on-weekends mandate.
Normally, this would be when you and I exhale a collective sigh of relief that Sunday is coming to a close. Normally, this would be when you and I retreat to the couch for an hour or two of mindless television mixed with mindful conversation.
But not tonight.
Tonight, I am alone. Well, not alone. I am in a home with four beating hearts, four brilliant hearts, other than mine. Two little girls who are entering dreamland and two not-so-little cats who just enjoyed a late dinner and now purr at my ankles. So, no. Not alone.
But alone.
Without you, something is missing. A big something. Without you, our home feels less full. Without you, I feel less full. And, thankfully, I don’t have many opportunities to test this theory of familial subtraction, but today has been that opportunity.
This afternoon, the four of us went to a birthday party. You brought your suitcase. You parked it next to our diaper bag and in a sea of tiny shoes. We had no time to mope. No, we were busy dividing and conquering and chasing our two speedy and fearless girls as they went wild on the trampoline and buried themselves in little plastic balls.
But after cake frosting, it was time. Time to duck out of the party and say goodbye. The four of us walked to the corner in the spritzing rain. You, ever the gentleman, ever my gentleman, put us, your girls, in a taxi. And when you did so, Baby bawled and wrestled me, belting out that one word she enunciates so clearly. Daddy. And you looked back at us, pinning us with tear-soaked blues, before choking out that impossible goodbye.
And we made it home in one piece. Baby fell asleep on me in the taxi and Toddler stood by my side and we transferred her to her crib for nap. And Toddler settled in for a fifteen minute faux nap before crooning my favorite word. Mommy. I scooped her from her big girl bed. And she agreed to help me clean up a bit for our second open house.
And the rest of the day? It was a bit of a marathon, but a magical one. The rain did not abate and we girls were homeless in the elements while our broker hosted a slew of strangers in our place. We made an emergency potty stop at Starbucks. We popped by the toy store and bought one of my favorite childhood games – Let’s Go Fishin’. We bought a birthday present for my nephew who turns ten tomorrow. And then we hit Barnes & Noble where the girls each picked a book. And I did too. Dani Shapiro’s Devotion. A book that a good friend of mine has been raving about.
And then we made our way to Mom’s to camp out for a bit before my nephew’s birthday celebration. The girls were fantastic. They played. They sat with us at the dinner table. They devoured the day’s second serving of birthday cake frosting. There were no epic meltdowns. As the day drew to a close, I actually felt like a decently-in-control mom. I don’t have that feeling too often, so this was nice.
And then we strolled home, along soggy sidewalks, in the city dark. Baby sang. Toddler skipped. And we walked in. Into our little haven which won’t be ours for too long. Into our little world. And we inched toward bed. And then we made it there.
And now. Now I am here. Basking in silence. Basking in awareness. Awareness that only comes with distance. Awareness that somehow, someway, I found you. The guy for me. The guy who was once just a cute and crushworthy jock. The guy who quickly became the love of my life. The guy who makes me laugh and makes me coffee. The guy who surprised me – and didn’t surprise me at all – by being the best daddy I could imagine to my sweet girls.
And so. On this drizzly Sunday night, I miss you. Deeply. And within reason. We girls will be fine. We will be better than fine. We will survive. We will thrive. We will have couch jumping contests and Diego marathons and play many many games of Let’s Go Fishin’. We will indulge in a couple of silly and good days. And then. Then you will be home.
Soon. So soon. Not soon enough.
A moment ago, my phone did its dance. Its ringless rumble. And I picked it up.
Hey babe. I’m here. Waiting for my bag. I love you.
I love you.
You are waiting at baggage claim.
And I am waiting here. At home. Waiting for your key in the door. Waiting for your hug. Waiting for your kiss. Waiting for our girls to squeal Daddy. Waiting to feel full again.
Waiting for Tuesday.
Soon. So soon. Not soon enough.
Now. Now I will cue this up to go live at 6am. About the same time I will awaken to Baby’s voice, sweet and strong. And when you read these words, these sappy and heartfelt words, I will be making my own coffee. And starting a new day. A new week.
Now. Now I will shut down this little world. This wonderful world that welcomes me when I am alone. When I need it. Now I will crawl into a big bed with two loyal cats and one new book. And I will read about devotion. What it means to someone else. Because, on nights like this, when I am missing you so profoundly and so pathetically, I know just what devotion means to me.
Night night. Good morning.
(I miss you, babe. We miss you. Hurry home.)
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- Do you enjoy when your partner travels or do you hate it like I do?
- Do you agree that there is a certain breed of awareness that is only felt in absence?
- Are you envious that Husband, though traveling for business, is partying it up at SXSW? (Because I am.)
- Do you think it makes me a big baby that I am so sad that my man is away for a couple of days? Be honest.
- Whom do you miss when you are alone?
ILI DAILY CHARM (yes, singular)
When I first started blogging, I happened upon a great blog called The Elmo Wallpaper. And I fell in love. With the voice. With the rawness. The wryness. The realness. Promptly, like a good rookie, I added this blog to my baby blogroll. Not too long after, I got an email from the blog’s author Mama (yes, I know her name, but I’m not telling!). She thanked me for linking to her and complimented my writing. So began our periodic email exchanges. I am now 30,000+ words into REFILL (my next novel!) and am doing a pretty sad job of staying atop my favorite blogs, but I just caught up over at The Elmo Wallpaper. And thank goodness I did. Two of Mama’s recent posts, profound and provocative, are nothing short of exquisite. In reading these posts, I am reminded why I fell for this blog – and its author – in the first place. Even as a newbie, I apparently knew what I was doing. Please read Appreciation and then its follow up On Why I Don’t “Need Some Feminism.”
I can...
I have mixed feelings. 85% of me hates it. And if the trip is longer than a few days, that morphs into a full 100% of me hating it. But when it is just a couple of days, there is a small part of me that likes being single Rebecca again. I get a chance to reconnect with that girl. I eat fruit and cheese and bread exclusively. I don’t make coffee, just tea (and not because I don’t love coffee but because he always makes it and I did without until we met). I watch bad romantic comedies. I stay up too late skyping with my sister in California. I unwisely have that 4th (or maybe even 5th) glass of wine with a friend in Williamsburg (of all places!). It reminds me that there are many facets to me. It also reminds me how lucky I am to have him. Because that singles scene in wburg? Brutal.
Oh, this is beautiful. It makes me miss your husband for you and your girls.
Thankfully, neither my husband nor I travel often for work. But when we do – or when I make a rare trip to my hometown alone – we become painfully aware of the feeling of separation. I absolutely believe “absence makes the heart grow fonder.” It is shocking sometimes how quickly you miss your partner – and how strong the emotion is. Really beautiful, a reminder of just what love is.
And YES I’m jealous he is at SXSW!
I have mixed feelings when Husband travels. It can be lonely, and I hate the sadness that fills my kids. But I also will admit that I revel a little in a bed all to myself, sole control of the remote, a little less worry about how complete my dinners are, and the ability to recharge alone when the kids go to bed. I am an extrovert and I love connection, but I need to be alone sometimes.
Thank you for the shout-out. I am so glad you found my blog so long ago! I am confident I would have found you if you had not found me. Excited to hear about the new book in progress!
My husband is out of town, on average, two nights per week. I am so used to it that I almost never miss him. It is a little sad to say, but completely true. And a little bit more honesty? When he is away I can’t feel guilty about catering to the little ones all evening, grabbing a book once they are in bed, and not paying our marriage more attention. Yes, a little sad but true.
This post is so sweet that it makes me wish I missed him more.
Maybe I will think of this tomorrow night when he is out of town and we will talk on the phone a few minutes longer…
oh this one hit home… paul has been deployed 3 times and the ache that comes with missing one’s partner is… an ache. and regardless of the amount of time the person is gone for… one day, one week, one year… the ache is the same in my mind.
hope your sweet hub read this and loved it as much as i did.
These words are beautiful, Aidan! And, yes, I am jealous your hubby is partying it up at SXSW.
I’m used to Matt’s being away, too, and at this point it’s part of my expected and familiar rhythm. I am sure that Husband’s trip away will make his return that much sweeter!
And yes, I am so jealous about SXSW – I’d love to go. I know a certain conference I’m really looking forward to this summer though.
I hope you love Devotion – as you know, I did.
For me time apart from my husband is bitter and sweet. About 18 months into our marriage I took a job in sales that required me to travel 2-4 days per week, every week, for 2 years. There were times when it was hard, but there was freedom in it also. We had time to ourselves and time to be independent. And the reunions were always wonderful.
Now with a child to care for these separations (which are much rarer these days) take on a different tone. There is still some self-indulgence, but primarily there is solo parenting, which is never easy. Good luck today and tomorrow. And enjoy looking forward to that key in the door tomorrow!
Lovely, just lovely! And I’m privileged to know just how you feel.
My husband travels a lot for work and because in the last few years the trips expanded to Asia 4-6X per year, it can be brutal. I try to look on the bright side and watch goofy women in peril TV and do face masks but it just isn’t ideal. I hate the travel as does he, but I know it is important to his career and so we endure it. I don’t think you are a baby at all. If it makes you feel better, on some ridiculous level, I am mad that the one time he didn’t travel was when this past November-February when I was working 7 days 100 hour weeks. Of course that was on purpose and gave me peace of mind that he was there with the kids so I could focus on my work with minimal worry. Still, now that I’m back to normal, he is away. I long for a time that the 4 of us could be in the same place where we are all “present.” Something to shoot for!
When my husband is away I cry for hours on end. There is something about having his side of the bed vacant that is a visual reminder of what I’m missing. I hate it. I told him that I could not handle him having a job that makes him travel. So, he has planned his future accordingly. Smart man.
What a beautiful note to your husband. A friend and I were actually just discussing how we usually enjoy the evening solitude when our spouses are away for about 1-2 nights, and then we miss their company like crazy. For a short while, I have to admit it’s nice to have the evening to myself.
Touching, absolutely beautiful! Nice to have a small amount of time alone, but doesn’t take long to miss them.
I am blessed to have a soul mate. For 20 years we’ve been committed to being together – so when he has to be gone, it is very hard for me. When we first moved from MN to WA, he commuted back to MN for work, S-TH. It was the hardest year of my life. Not only had I become a SAHM, but I was largely doing it alone. And alone is what I felt more than anything else. I just missed him more than phone calls and emails and video chatting could fix.
Thank goodness he doesn’t travel much anymore – but the way the kids rush him at the door at the end of every workday, you’d think his absences were 8-10 days rather than hours.
I guess I’m a homebody and I like all the bodies in my home where they are supposed to be.
Hang in there – Tuesday is coming!
My husband travels a couple of times a year, for medical conferences and things like that. He’s always missed, but the first day or so of solitude is actually kind of nice. After that point, though, it’s a grind.
Oh Aidan, this brought a lump to my throat! You guys are so lucky. My youngest was 3 when my marriage ended; my oldest 10. Every day when I brought the kids home from school they asked if they were seeing Daddy that night. Every day. I got used to being alone in the house with just the kids at night. But it’s not the best thing to get used to.
Now I’m gonna head over and visit that other blog!
My husband used to travel with his job – not often, but too much. I hated it. I just had to fill my time so I didn’t have space to miss him.
On the other hand, when I go off to one of my conferences, I’m okay. Funny how that works out… I suppose it comes back to being busy.
I have tears in my eyes. What a lovely post. How deeply you love, how deeply you feel.
Thank you for sharing your love with us.
Loving this Aidan! I feel almost exactly the same way any time my husband is gone. Good to know it’s not just me.
Welcome, Heather! Good to know I am not alone in missing my man when he is gone! Off to check out your blog!
First of all, this is SUCH a beautiful post.
Secondly, my husband does travel for work. It used to be A LOT, now it’s just here and there. He’s done this since before we were married and while I really don’t like it, I guess I’m SO used to it that sometimes it feels as if he’s just gone to the office for the day. I think I have to force myself to not feel it too intensely or I’d just get too depressed. That used to happen and I had to adjust. It’s hard. There is an empty space when they are gone, that’s for sure.
I recently spent my first weekend without Husband since having kids. I enjoyed the little things like eating brownies for dinner and going a wee bit longer between showers, but mostly I missed him. I missed my partner in crime and my partner in parenting.
I hope your husband gets home safely.
Mine always leaves me a jar of Nutella when he’s away. He knows I love it so. And I sit on the couch and eat it, straight from the jar, and watch my shows and my movies. The Nutella (and the solitude) is always delicious, but every spoonful reminds me how much I miss him. It’s the best and worst of worlds, isn’t it?
Awe I can totally relate to this post – my husband has been way for the past 45 days because of his new job. He’s on training and he won’t be back for another 45 days…. My girls and I miss him dearly!
Beautiful post!
Welcome to ILI, Maki! Now you are making me feel bad! I am talking two days and you are talking 90! I cannot imagine how hard that must be for you. Thanks for popping by. Now, its bedtime for me
I’m with you, Aidan. I’d HATE it if my husband travelled for work. In our 17 years of marriage, the only days we’ve been apart have been for me being in the hospital to have the kids, when I had surgery, or when my daughter broke her arm. That’s it. We are homebodies, like two old shoes, even when we were young shoes.
And, what a lovely love letter.
This post made my stomach feel empty and brought tears to my eyes. I can’t sleep without Evan in the bed with me, and the tasks of the seem silly when he’s gone. And, oddly enough, I love to be alone. I don’t think you’re a big baby because you miss Husband when he’s away. Or maybe you are, and I am too. Oh well.